


Entwined

by mousaerato



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Caretaking, Codependency, Drabble, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I Don't Even Know, Light Bondage, Mistaken Identity, No Mercy Route, Other, Possessive Behavior, Sleep, Sleepiness, Sleepy Cuddles, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousaerato/pseuds/mousaerato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flowey cannot believe he's rediscovered the one thing he could never predict. He could never predict his own reactions to this, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entwined

               Gunmetal edifices, static and barren, pierced the stale air above.

               Below, the noiseless sterility was broken only by the muted, gentle patter of a young human’s footsteps. Though light, the brown-haired youth’s steps were calculated and methodical, each releasing ivory-hued dust from their blue and purple striped shirt. The faint, chalk-like line remained unwavering and unbroken – the only sign of life remaining from the catacombs to New Home.

               The human’s eyes were unfocused and heavy, a stark contrast to the confidence with which they entered the similarly grey house. _He leaves them in the kitchen and the hallway,_ they reminded themselves wordlessly. As they walked westward to the kitchen, disorientation swam meekly to the front of their head, breathless and languishing. The youth’s lips, dry and cracked, shaped the words of a question, coughed more than whispered: “Where am-”

               The question was answered with a bite to the lip and a growl as the human spitefully swallowed the question like bile. Their steps became slower and laborious as they entered the kitchen, pitter-patters replaced with long _thuds_. “The _kitchen_ – and the _hallway_ ,” the juvenile ordered, voice stern and dark. They angrily forced their eyes open in defiance of the headache blossoming and throbbing at their temples, grasping the key and placing it on their keychain with vigor, as if to demonstrate dominance. With a grunt, the child swallowed their spit through clenched teeth and placed the keychain back where it belonged. Their steps returned to staccato articulation, but now with greater emphasis and determination as the child turned and walked out of the kitchen to the hallway.

               Finding and keeping the second key prompted no resistance. That doubting specter had been subdued, their grating thoughts and weakness finally muzzled.

               Carding a hand through flat and unkempt dark hair, the child caught a glance of their face in a mirror. Dusty and dry hands attempted to smooth the locks at the crown of their head as they examined their newly-claimed countenance: pale cheeks, pallid skin, and circles like bruises under their eyes revealed their fatigue. Still, the young human smiled, albeit weakly. “It’s me,” they said. “Chara.” Feeling a faint sense of relief, Chara decided to find respite in their old room. They _were_ home again, after all.

               Chara opened the door with unceremoniously with a push and kick to its bottom corner, exhaling deeply as the intimately familiar room coaxed them into relaxation. Cold and drained eyes skimmed the dark room, leaving the door ajar as they walked further into their old sanctum. Nothing struck the human as new until they looked near the floor of their old bed: breaking the pattern of beams were two pristine white boxes, wrapped immaculately in blood red ribbon. Clearly, they were for them, Chara surmised; the gifts _were_ on their side of the room, after all. Even if they weren’t, who would stop them?

               The youth fell to their knees, a jolt of energy and greed pulsing through their veins, and examined the boxes. The ribbons’ color was fascinating, intense, captivating. Chara’s first thought gazing upon the carefully-prepared gifts was to tear into them; after all, they were husks and a means to an end. Two gift tags, addressed in equally-lovely handwriting, stemmed Chara’s urge and gave them pause. Lifting the tags to examine them, they received the confirmation they already knew: “For Chara.”

               Small, impatient hands untied the ribbons with more care than Chara would admit; perhaps it was the latent fatigue. Dust and oil from Chara’s digits smeared the glossy sheen of the first box as they opened the container to reveal its contents: not any locket, but the locket, engraved with the phrase “Best Friends Forever.” Chara briefly examined it, holding it in their hands and marveling at its warmth. They could feel it pulsating, beating in their hand. Understanding its use immediately, Chara placed it around their neck. _Right where it belongs,_ they thought.

               Suddenly, the gilded locket felt heavier than when it first adorned Chara’s neck. Memories of sounds, sights, and smells filled the child’s mind rapidly, striking the child with increased intensity. The child was consumed by memories of their last moments, all too vivid: the buttercups, the crying, the pleading, being struck by blow after blow, cold, cold, cold. Inhaling sharply, the child jumped to their feet, head snapping around with eyes half-closed; _too much, too much, too much, too-_

 _Flowers. Sunlight. Warmth._ That was all they wanted.

               Chara’s eyes fixated on the lamp on _his_ side of the bed. He was always so warm, with the fire magic, fur, and of course, the lamp. Kicking off their shoes lazily to their side of the room, the human collapsed into the monster’s bed, eyes slamming shut and sleep following easily.

               Unheard by Chara in their deep slumber was thin scrape of tiny thorns sliding across floorboards as a certain sentient, gold-petaled flower entered the room. Flowey slithered across the floor, using his vines to wrap and climb what was once his bed. Perching himself at the foot of the bed, he looked at Chara, fully dressed, uncovered, and shivering in their sleep. He could scarcely believe his eyes – finally, something he hadn’t predicted. Curious, Flowey watched wordlessly and noted the rhythmic rise and fall of Chara’s chest with their breathing, transfixed.

               Another chill found its way down Chara’s spine, the sudden movement jarring Flowey from his unrelenting gaze.  A long-forgotten memory found its way to the forefront of the flower’s soulless mind, bringing a new question to be answered. _What would happen if I did this? They’re cold; I wonder…_

               An emerald-green tendril found its way to the lamp. Flowey glanced down at the face of the shivering body beneath him, analyzing it: pale, waxy skin, dry lips, brown and deep-blue bruises under eyes too heavy with sleep and dread. Never taking his eyes away from that face, the soulless creature turned the lamp on, moving it closer to the human’s mouth and lips, careful to avoid shining light into their eyes. Without waking, Chara’s mouth curled upward into a smile, body twisting and reorienting instinctively to the warm, familiar rays.

               Flowey giggled. “You really miss the sun, don’t you?” In another unexpected reaction, Chara hummed, mumbling as if to respond to their old friend. Inspired further, Chara’s best friend withdrew his vine from the lamp and brought two down from his perch to rest at the human’s sides and slid downwards to both sides of the bed. Working quietly and with a learned precision, the small verdant ropes delicately lifted the blanket’s edges to envelop the youth, covering their legs, feet, and arms, leaving only one hand uncovered.

               Seeing the human at peace in bed stirred yet another old memory from Flowey’s past life as a monster. A tenuous voice called out to Chara from the flower’s animate face: “Welcome home, Chara.” The human, still resting, wiggled their toes and shifted their legs, eventually adjusting to the all-encompassing warmth by resting on their back, torso exposed but feet and shins covered. Seeing their face so clearly in the soft light inspired Flowey to continue talking, memories and sensations rekindled and slowly rousing back to life.

               “How did you come back?” asked the golden blossom, suddenly moved to rest himself on Chara’s leg. “Did you hear me calling you?”

               The human mumbled again, still unconscious. “There’s not a scratch on you,” Flowey mused, curious at his dearest friend’s miraculous return. Smelling the pungent, stinging odor of monster ashes on Chara’s shirt, Flowey began to wonder about the specific conditions of his sibling’s sudden reappearance. The monster detracted the thorns of his vines, suddenly consumed by the same memory that motivated his careful wrapping of Chara’s gifts. Slowly, Flowey allowed one tendril to climb along Chara’s clothed left leg, wrapping around it softly, as if checking for any sign of damage. He kept his eyes steady on his friend’s body as his limbs moved carefully to the hem of Chara’s shirt, grasping it lightly to lift it, careful not to cause too sudden of a temperature change. A second vine brought the right edge of the blanket up as a precaution, eventually joining Flowey’s other appendage to examine the human’s increasingly bare torso. The flower looked at Chara’s abdomen with confusion, whispering, “No wounds. No scars.” Another thought allowed itself to be spoken, novel and unnatural: “That’s good.”

               A gentle laugh escaped from the human, now in the lighter phase of sleep, as Flowey dragged his right vine against their stomach. Flowey’s memories of his old life ignited yet again, making his face feel unnaturally warm. He needed to be more…careful, he concluded, with examining his friend. Two vines moved torturously slowly along the fabric covering Chara’s chest, eventually stopping at their throat to examine their neck. Green lines glided against soft skin, tracing the veins – and earning a hitch in breath from the human. Flowey, body now resting against Chara’s thigh, exhaled. “Nothing there, either,” he muttered, voice nervous.

               With the same pitter-patter of Chara’s determined footsteps, Flowey crawled up the human’s thigh, settling on the button of Chara’s pants, lightly touching their warm, exposed abdomen. The flower stretched his vine neck, letting his face hover inches above his best friend’s, peaceful and serene. “You know,” said Flowey with some hesitation, “now that you’re here…living on the surface doesn’t sound so bad.” Jade-hued tendrils, three now, slipped and slid along Chara’s shoulders, slipping underneath the human’s shirt. Flowey marveled; still, there were no raised scars or signs of trauma. Wrapping first around the locket’s chain, one of the tendrils detected the faint feeling of a human heartbeat beneath the skin. He allowed himself to linger there to feel and hear the steady _thump, thump, thump;_ the reason, however, eluded his understanding.

               Flowey was, for the first time in ages, uncertain of the future. Despite the equivalent of years’ worth of wasted, ruined timelines and worthless memories, what lie still beneath him was an unquantifiable anomaly, even in all his experience. The realization sent a thrill through his body, the potent combination of vulnerability and possibility loosening his pollen-lined lips. Words tumbled from his mouth unceasingly and unbidden, curious as to when – or if – the human would hear him, respond to him, or even awaken.

               “For a while, I didn’t…believe it was worth living anymore,” Flowey spoke to the supine form with a voice uncharacteristically timid. “I couldn’t feel anything…for anyone. Not even our Mom and Dad.” The child responded only with the soft hisses of air being inhaled and exhaled.

               Uncertain but impatient, the soulless creature continued to speak to the unconscious form before him. “But you, Chara,” he started, voice gradually fading into vapor, “you are—”

               A cough interrupted Flowey’s thoughts as it sputtered spit and chalk-like powder onto him. The flower giggled, bringing a newly-formed vine to touch along Chara’s jawline. “Heh. You always have been like that. Impulsive.” A tendril swept gently across the human’s cheek. “You understand me. You never give me pity.”

               Leaving one vine twined around the human’s necklace, Flowey allowed himself to extend more appendages along Chara’s body. “I know what you were doing,” the flower said, tone dark yet honeyed. “I know why you’re so exhausted. Even now, it’s kill or be killed, isn’t it?” Flowey scoffed as two vines wrapped Chara’s legs in a spiral shape, holding them gently in place in single helixes. Chara sighed contentedly, back arching upward and letting their breath tickle through Flowey’s petals. Flowey chuckled at the drowsy response, using another vine to hold Chara’s right arm in place along its entire length. The warmth emanating from the human body made it even more certain to Flowey that this was real.

               “I didn’t want to be in this world without you,” Flowey continued, voice softer than before. He allowed a last, thin vine to wrap delicately around the digits of Chara’s left hand, a little tighter than the others. “You and I…creatures like us, we need to stay together, right Chara?” We can do it. We really can this time.”

               A drowsy sound of affirmation escaped Chara’s mouth, smile creeping to the corners of their mouth.

               “Yeah, Chara. Just us. After all these timelines, after all these years…that’s all I want.” Instinctively, every vine around Chara’s body tightened. The human couldn’t help but sigh and hum in response. A feeling seized through the flower’s form – was it excitement? – encouraging him to speak again. “You need to wake up now,” Flowey commanded. Moments of silence that felt like eons stretched as he watched Chara beneath him. Finally, Flowey added one word, whispered: “ _Please._ ”

               With that, Chara’s head and neck moved closer to Flowey’s face. The flower noticed the faint twitches of eyes fluttering open from sleep.

               Flowey felt a smile play across his face as half-open brown eyes fixed upon his. Chara’s lips parted and said the two words he wanted to hear.


End file.
